


Helpessly Hoping

by keiko48460



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keiko48460/pseuds/keiko48460
Summary: They are one personThey are two aloneThey are three togetherThey are for each other





	1. Debbie Finds a Stray

**6 MONTHS AFTER THE HEIST**

When Debbie Ocean was in prison and imagined her life after being 30 million dollars richer, she thought of expensive clothes, driving incredibly fast cars, traveling the world and staying in sea-side hotels—she imagined a life of luxury and grandeur.

The old Debbie Ocean found happiness in expensive things—money literally bought her happiness. Now, however, now that she actually had money—she found her happiness surprisingly not in money, but in something else—or at least someone else. As ridiculous as it sounds, she found the happiness she was always searching for in someone that had literally been there with her for the past 20 years, but never appreciated until recently.

 _Lou_.

After the heist, Lou—in typical Lou fashion, brazen and fearless in all things, kissed her. It wasn’t a gentle first-time kiss either. It was a knock her back into the wall, swallow her soul type of kiss that still to this day makes Debbie’s knees wobble. She had never in her life been kissed like that—like she was a drop of water in a dessert that hadn’t seen rain in years, Lou devoured her.

And since then, there was no looking back for either of them. They were still figuring each other out and still tip-toeing around their feelings. Their walls were high from all of the heartbreak and trauma they had experienced in their past—but they were coming down, slowly.

Which is why, Debbie found herself walking around along the San Francisco’s busiest Saturday morning farmers market, in a cute but comfortable bohemian sundress she found at a little boutique around the corner while cursing the nearly illegible list of fresh produce that Lou _absolutely needed_ in order to make dinner tonight.

This was her life now.

She wore sundresses.

Flip-flops that were not designer.

And she shopped at Farmers Markets.

This was not at all what she imaged her life would be while planning the heist in prison, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Yes, they had luxury—she was Debbie Ocean after all, but Lou, well Lou brought out hominess in Debbie, one that she would never dare admit existed let alone liked. But if pushed, Debbie knew she would trade every Michael Kohrs dress in her closet for one-night cuddling on the couch with Lou while watching Chopped.

Debbie smiled at the mere thought, knowing she probably looked like a crazy person, going from smiling and then cursing the same woman who brought that smile to her lips—because seriously, this list was practically in code. The woman should have been a doctor with this penmanship.

Debbie was about halfway down the list, looking for fresh ginger, when suddenly—she felt it. The subtle shift in the air. The feeling of someone’s close proximity to back. The slightest feeling of her purse inching back just a hair.

Reaching back in with a quickness that surprised even her, Debbie was barely able to grab the wrist that was just about to pull out her wallet. Turning towards the caught thief with an angry retort on her lips, Debbie quickly found all pre-planned verbal tongue lashings disappear at the person on the end of her death grip.

The feeling of the tiny wrist below her hand and the way her fingers nearly wrapped double around the small wrists should have been the first sign—but actually seeing it with her eyes, actually seeing the wide crystal blue eyes of a terrified child looking up at her—for the first time in quite a long time, Debbie Ocean was speechless.

The thief was a little girl, maybe 5 or 6 years old judging by her small stature, but honestly, Debbie had never been around kids enough to accurately place an age. She had curly platinum blonde hair—hair that clearly hadn’t been washed in some time. And it wasn’t just her hair that needed to be washed, the girl’s clothes were also tattered and dirty, and were nearly fell off of her small frame.

“I’m sorry,” squeaked out the small girl, under Debbie’s vice-like grip, the subtle flinch that shook through the girl’s body was not lost on Debbie either.

The girl's voice, so incredibly timid and terrified, that it almost shocks Debbie into loosening her grip on the girl, however, it was the jolt she needed to gain her voice back.

“Your technique was good, but you need to choose shorter marks—” started Debbie, keeping her grip on the girl’s wrist she bent down to get eye level with her. “Because you went for my purse which was out of your height range, you had to extend yourself and it threw off your technique.”

The girl’s eyes went wide at Debbie’s words, and much to Debbie’s surprise, in a flash, gone was the timid frightened little girl and, in her place, there stood a cold and determined face—a face that should never be on a child.

“My technique was perfect,” bit out the girl, with a tug at her wrist to try and get her arm free. Debbie raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at that. This girl was clearly confident in her skills, even at such a young age.

“I felt the shift on my purse, and you know it.” Debbie paused, looking down to the wrist in her hand before letting go. “Stick to men’s wallets next time,” advised Debbie, watching the girl take a step back from her. “Men won’t suspect you, and the pulls from their pockets are easy and within your height range.”

The girl eyed Debbie carefully before nodding. “You’re not a normal rich-bitch, are you?”

Debbie’s brows disappeared into her hairline at hearing the world _bitch_ coming out of such a tiny person’s mouth, but she couldn’t help but smile. “How do you know I am rich?” she asked, watching the girl carefully.

The little girl scoffed. “Oh, please…you might not have designer clothes on, but I know a rich woman when I see her. I bet there are at least a thousand dollars in that wallet of yours.”

Debbie’s smirked at the comment, before pulling her purse out in front of her and grabbing her nearly stolen wallet out. Opening it up, Debbie began to do the count the stack of money she had inside of it before looking up. “$1,100,” noted Debbie in an impressed tone.

A cocky smirk formed on the girls face before she crossed her arms in a stance that equally matched her cockiness. “Told you.”

Debbie smirked at that, the cockiness reminding Debbie so much of her younger self. Looking down at the cash in her hand, Debbie’s heart panged inside of her chest at how much this money would have meant to her at her lowest times—a time that clearly, this young girl was going through.

An idea suddenly sparked in her mind, and she took out a crisp $100 bill. “I tell you what,” said Debbie, handing the girl the $100 bill. “You have two options, you can either take this $100 bill as a reward for almost nicking my wallet. Or—you can take this $100, and this,” she paused to hand over Lou’s list, “And purchase the rest of the ingredients on this list, and as a reward I will—” she paused before flashing the wad of money towards the girl, “give you all of this.”

The girl looked at the hundred-dollar bill and the list in shock for a few seconds, before looking up. “You will give me a thousand dollars just to finish grocery shopping for you.”

Debbie barked out a laugh, “well you know us rich bitches, we don’t like manual labor.” Standing to her feet now, she looked down at the girl, “what do you say? Are you going to take the money or finish that list? "

The girl looked at Debbie in suspicion for a second before looking down at the list. “Who wrote this, a second grader?”

Debbie laughed at that because Lou really did have horrible penmanship. “Aren’t you in second grade?”

“Excuse you—I’m in fourth.”

Debbie didn’t let the surprise show on her face, but Tammy’s oldest was in 4th grade and she looked nothing like this girl. The size and weight were the notable differences as the warning signs of abuse rang in the back in the back of her mind.

“Well excuse me,” said Debbie, her voice showing no signs of the internal battle she was experiencing.

The girl eyed her carefully once more, her blue eyes almost looking right through her—eyes so similar to the ones waiting for her back at home.

“Fine, rich lady. I will finish your grocery shopping.”

Debbie nodded at that, before turning and looking around—spotting a bench nearby.

“I will be over there waiting for you.”

The girl nodded, eyeing Debbie critically one more time before turning and walking into the busy market and disappearing into the crowd.

Debbie watched her go for a second, before letting out a breath of air that she didn’t even know she was holding. Her legs felt like jelly as she made her way to the bench. Sitting down, she immediately grabbed her phone and texted Tammy.

**How tall is your oldest and how much does she weigh?**

The three little dots appeared on the screen until finally a response.

_**That is the weirdest question you have ever asked me and that is saying something. But Caroline is about 65 pounds, and she is 5 feet tall. She is tall for her age though. She gets it from her father. Why?** _

Debbie paused, debating telling Tammy her situation but decided against it.

**No reason.**

Exiting out of the message to Tammy, Debbie quickly messaged Lou.

 **Honey**.

The text back was immediate, as always.

_**Yes, love? How is the market?** _

Debbie's fingers flew over the keyboard, her eyes coming up for a second to scan the crowd for the small girl before going back down.

**Almost done but I found something.**

_**Something?** _

Debbie considered her next words carefully but ended up typing out.

**I found a stray.**

The three dots appeared on her screen, taking longer than Debbie was used to seeing as Lou was clearly trying to formulate a response.

_**And what are you going to do with this stray?** _

Debbie went to type back but was interrupted by the sound of bags crashing in front of her. Looking up she found 3 bags filled with fresh fruit and vegetables, and the young girl standing in front of her looking annoyed. That was fast. The kids must have known this market like the back of her hand.

Looking back down to the phone she quickly typed out.

**I don’t know.**

Looking back up at the girl, Debbie quickly placed the phone back in her purse before looking back up. “You done?”

The girl rolled her eyes, “no…I came back here for your company,” she replied sarcastically.

Debbie internally smiled at the girl’s sass before looking down the bags full. It looked like the girl did get everything. Reaching inside her wallet, she pulled out the promised cash and handed it over. As the girl reached for it, Debbie pulled it back—as a thought, a dangerously reckless thought entered in her mind.

“There is more where this comes from,” said Debbie, holding the money just within reach of the girl.

The girl scoffed at Debbie’s words. “I’ve heard that before, my friend heard that before too from a rich guy, just like you—I haven’t seen her since and that was last year,” mumbled the girl, then a hardness entered her eyes. “I won’t make her mistake.”

Debbie’s heart broke in her chest at those words but she still pushed on.

“Where do you live?”

“None of your business.”

“Do you have parents?”

“Again, none of your business.”

Debbie groaned in frustration. “When is the last time you had a bath?”

Embarrassment wrecked the small girls face before it was taken over by anger. “Are some creepy pedophile or something?”

It was Debbie’s turn to get angry. “Jesus kid. I don’t do this ok. I am not a good guy in any story. I am the villain. And plus—I don’t even like kids. Just being around you is literally spiking my anxiety—so trust me, I am not a pedophile. I’m the opposite of one.”

The kid, for the first time since—looked shocked and speechless, and Debbie was thankful for the change in pace because honestly, this kid has thrown Debbie off more in the past 20 minutes then her entire life.

“Then why are you helping me?” asked the girl, her voice suspicious but Debbie could hear the underlining vulnerability.

“Honestly?” said Debbie, crossing her arms and thinking. “I have no idea. Old me would have just left you here, and never even gave it a second thought. But new me—I don’t even know—all I know is I’m going to feel like shit if I don’t at least offer.”

The two stood in silence for a while, before finally, the little girl spoke.

“You said something about more money?”

Debbie let out a low laugh at that—of course, it would come down to money with this kid. “Yes,” said Debbie smirking, “as we established, I have money—lots of it.”

“And what do I need to do to get it?”

Debbie smirked, “well—first, I will pay you $50, just to take a bath.”

The girl once again looked shocked, “you’re going to pay me to take a bath.”

“Yes.”

The girl grimaced at Debbie’s words, before looking down at her feet and kicking the cement at her feet. “I don’t have access to one.”

Debbie’s heart sank. “You don’t have a shower or a bath where you live?”

“I do—they just won’t let me use it.”

“Who, won't?” asked Debbie, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

“Roy and Carol—stupid foster family.”

Debbie sat back down and leaned back into the bench. Thinking on all this information before making her decision with an audible sigh. Reaching out she slapped the $1,000 into the kids’ hand before grabbing her purse, and then bags on the ground.

“Let’s go,” she said to the kid as she began to walk away but stopped as she noticed she was not being followed.

The girl looked at her in confusion. “

Come on, let's get you that bath and some food in your stomach,” Debbie paused to stare down at the bags in her hand. “I think some sort of Thai food is in on the menu tonight, but don’t quote me on that—I can’t cook to save my life.”

The girl took a step towards her but then hesitated—clearly nervous about trusting a stranger.

Seeing this Debbie, sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Honestly, doing the right thing is so much harder than breaking the law. Breaking the law was something she was good at, but this—well, this was hard. “Look, kid—the way I see it is you have two options here,” said Debbie giving the kid a pointed look. “You can take that money and go home to your shitty foster family—or you can still take that money, earn more money, and get to take a bath and eat a proper meal. It’s up to you, and I honestly don’t care which one you choose. I feel like I’ve already done a good deed today so it won’t bother me either way.”

After that Debbie turned and walked away. She was truthful in her statement to the kid, she made the offer—if the kids chose not to take it, that’s on the kid, not her. So, Debbie continued walking, not once looking back, not that she didn’t want to. Reaching her car, a black Audi that she honestly considered her baby, Debbie piled the bags into the trunk and moved to the driver side.

She paused, cursing her curiosity as she looked up and to her surprise, she found the kid—standing about 20 feet away looking just as nervous as before. Debbie gave her a look, one that she hoped it read, i _ts ok to be afraid but also get your ass in the car because I am losing my patience_ , before opening her door and getting into the driver’s seat. Looking to her right, she saw the girl, closer now but still far away enough from the door that Debbie could drive away easily and forget all about this day and this kid. Sighing, she leaned to her right and opened the door and pushed it open, hoping the kid would take a hint and get in.

It worked, apparently because the kid got in. Wide blue eyes mixed with fear and awe looked around at the car’s interior. Debbie eyed the kid’s dirty hands and sighed, before reaching forward and putting her sunglasses on. “Try not to touch anything,” she said while putting the car in gear and driving away.

To say the 20-minute drive to home was awkward was an understatement at its finest. Neither one of them spoke, as the soft music of some XM Sirius station played in the background. It was nerve-grating, to say the least, and by the time Debbie pulled into the driveway, her anxiety was spiking through the roof.

Getting out of the car, she walked to the trunk to retrieve her bags before stepping forward, pausing at the front door as she turned, the kid was still in the car. Sighing, Debbie gestured with her head for the kid to get out of the car, and thankfully she listened. The kid approached her nervously, before casting her eyes up at that the large modern building of concrete and glass.

“I knew you were rich,” said the girl before bringing her eyes back to Debbie. “But this is like, rich-rich.”

“Yes, it’s very impressive—let's go,” said Debbie marching to the front door. “I feel like my arms are about to fall off.”

Reaching the door, she opened it with her key and walked through shouting, “honey, I am home!”

“Oh god,” said the kid behind her as she made a gagging noise, “you’re one of those couples.”

Debbie rolled her eyes at the kid, and had a retort on her lips but the sound of boots hitting floor quickly stole any words from her mouth as both Debbie and the girl turned to see Lou walk around the corner, a beer in hand before freezing at the sight of Debbie and her partner in tow.

If it were any other situation, Debbie would have found humor in Lou’s look of complete and utter surprise—it was so rare to catch the woman off guard. But now, in this situation—Debbie didn’t revel in it, in fact, she felt kind of bad for springing this on the woman.

“Love,” said Lou, finding her voice after some time, “do you know there is a child behind you?”

Debbie smiled at Lou while giving her a look that she hoped read, _there is a story to this, I promise_ before looking back at the kid.

“Go get yourself cleaned up. The bathroom is the first door on the left, and towels are under the sink. Don’t bother putting those clothes back on. I’m pretty sure they need to be burned. I think we have something laying around here that will fit you.”

The girl frowned at the comment before looking down at her clothes and fingered the old and tattered, Pink Floyd shirt. The shirt was one of the first things Debbie noticed on the girl because it was so surprising to see anyone under 30 wearing that band's shirt, let alone a 10-year-old.

“This is my favorite shirt,” grumbled out the girl, before giving Debbie a look that clearly conveyed that she was willing to battle in order to save this shirt.

Debbie rolled her eyes to the ceiling, almost as if she were sending a quick prayer for patience to whatever god may be up there before looking back down at the child. “Fine,” said Debbie sighing, before eyeing the shirt with disgust. “I won’t burn it. I will wash it instead. You will still need something else to wear in the meantime. I will put something in the bathroom for you while you clean up.”

The girl narrowed her eyes at Debbie, trying to obviously read the truthfulness in the older woman’s facial expression before letting out her own frustrated sigh and throwing her hands in the air. “You are seriously the weirdest rich-lady…like ever,” mumbled the girl as she walked passed Debbie, and then by Lou to get to the bathroom that was pointed out to her earlier.

Debbie watched her go, her eyes narrowing in on the girl’s hands—seeing the familiar itch to steal the expensive knick-knacks that she and Lou had placed around the house. The girl was smart though, she wouldn’t do it while she knew Debbie was watching. As soon as Debbie watched the door close behind the girl, she looked to Lou.

“Tammy left some of her oldest kid’s clothes here last time she visited—what’s that kids name again? Katie—no Katelynn?

“Caroline,” answered Lou, shaking her head at Debbie’s antics. Lou knew that Debbie knew Tammy’s kid's name, and actually cared for the rascals—but Debbie always made sure to coincidently “forget” the kid's name whenever they were brought up. It was a defense mechanism plain and simple—and it never failed to get a rise out of Tammy, which was another reason Debbie loved doing it.

“Riiggghhtt,” said Debbie, shrugging but Lou could see the subtle smirk on her face as the woman reached down and grabbed the produce bags and walked towards the kitchen. “We still have those clothes, right?” she called behind her, knowing Lou was following her.

“Yes, there in the linen closet,” answered Lou, entering the kitchen and perching herself against the kitchen island, watching Debbie actively avoid Lou’s gaze as the woman put away the fruits and vegetables in the fridge.

“Right,” said Debbie, her head buried in the fridge for way longer then it would normally take to put broccoli away. Lou smiled at the blatant avoidance tactic her partner was using, before taking a swig of her beer and speaking.

“You know, when you said you found a stray—I thought you meant a dog.”

Debbie pulled her head out of the fridge and gave a Lou a comical face, wide eyes and jaw dropped in surprise. “Wait, you're telling me, that isn’t a dog in our shower?”

Lou shook her head at Debbie’s antics and took another hearty drink from her bottle of beer. “Nope,” said Lou, popping the p in the word. “That was definitely a child.”

Debbie gave her another disbelieving look. “Are you sure?—Because she had the poor manners like a stray dog, she certainly smelled like one, and I am pretty sure she was considering biting me at one point.”

Lou laughed out loud at that, earning a proud smirk from Debbie.

Debbie turned from her partner, eying the empty grocery bags for a moment, before letting out a defeated sigh—knowing she had not more ways to avoid the conversation that she knew she needed to have, but also not quite ready to tackle the topic, Debbie made her way across the room to the liquor closet and grabbed two glasses and one of Lou’s more expensive bottles of bourbon. Lou watched as Debbie filled very healthy portions of the strong liquor into the cups, before turning and making her way back to Lou. Stopping at the other side of the kitchen island, a blatant move to put as much space between herself and Lou, Debbie slid the drink across the kitchen countertop into Lou’s waiting hand. Lou eyed the liquor in her hand and raised a brow at her partner. Debbie was not a big drinker, let alone a day drinker.

“Trust me, I need this. And so, will you,” said Debbie, eyeing the drink with nervously before lifting it to her lips, and gulping the whole thing down in a very impressive but rare display of her drinking ability.

Lou watched the scene with wide eyes, unable to remember the last time she saw Debbie drink like that or see the woman so flustered. Looking down at the drink in her hand and then back up to Debbie, Lou sighed before nodding in acceptance. Pushing herself off the kitchen island, Lou made her way over to her partner, her eyes never leaving Debbie’s, even as she gulped the shot down before finally stopping in front of Debbie.

Setting the glass down next to Debbie’s she reached out and placed a hand on Debbie’s hips. It was a tactic she used from time-to-time, physical touch always anchored Debbie to the ground, which meant the woman had a harder time running away—a favorite of Debbie’s defense tactics. Debbie let out a long breath and leaned into Lou’s touch before looking up.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” said Debbie softly. Lou gave her an understanding smile, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss to Debbie’s forward before pulling back.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Debbie let out another long sigh, before nodding.

“I was at the market, trying to read the chicken scratch you call handwriting,” she paused throwing Lou a look that clearly conveyed her annoyance in her partner's inability to write clearly. “I was looking for ginger and that little shit,” Debbie paused to gesture haphazardly towards the bathroom, where finally the subtle sound of the shower could be heard running, “tried to steal my wallet.”

“You set your purse down at the farmer’s market?” asked Lou, her brows rising at that. Criminals were naturally suspicious and untrustworthy people, which meant that anything of importance was never left in the open for greedy hands to take. Debbie gave her an incredulous look.

“No, of course not. I’m not going senile in my old age, Lou. The kid pulled my wallet while it was on my shoulder. She is a pickpocket.”

It was now Lou’s time to look at Debbie incredulously. “She pulled your wallet? A little girl pulled Debbie Oceans wallet?”

Debbie glared half-heartedly at her partner. “She _almost_ pulled my wallet but I caught her.”

“Almost?” chuckled Lou, seeing something akin to respect in Debbie’s eyes as she spoke of the pull. “How close was she?”

Debbie's lips thinned at the question, before throwing an exasperated look at Lou.

Lou read the look right away before smiling. “She almost got it, didn’t she?”

Debbie's eyes darted away from Lou’s, something akin to embarrassment flushing her cheeks at Lou’s teasing tone. “Yes—I barely caught her.”

Lou contained the laugh that wanted to burst from her chest at the thought of a little girl nearly pickpocketing the most elusive thief in the world—knowing that her partner could only take so much teasing.

“So,” smirked Lou, squeezing Debbie’s hip to get her partners attention. She waited until Debbie brought her eyes back to her before speaking. “The kids good?”

Debbie nodded, that spark of respect entering her deep brown eyes again. “She’s very good. Anyone else but me and she would have been successful. She probably could have pulled you.”

Lou scoffed at that, she’d believe that when she saw it but still nodded at the comment. To get Debbie Ocean to say your good—that was a rare compliment indeed, and reserved only for the best, so the kid had to be good.

“What happened next?” she asked, pushing the conversation forward.

“Well she first tried to the whole innocent child bit,” smirked Debbie, remember the decent acting that the kid put on at first. “But when I told her she threw off her technique by going for a mark too tall, she immediately lost the innocent card—and went borderline feral.” Debbie shook her head at the memory. “She marked me. Had me pegged down to the right amount of money I had in my wallet.”

Lou listened, nodding for Debbie to continue and watched as a something akin to pity and sadness entered Debbie’s eyes.

“She was dirty and clearly malnourished,” said Debbie, as she turned her gaze to the shower, still hearing the water running. “I was impressed with her, and I knew she clearly needed the money—so I paid her to finish the grocery list.” 

“You paid a random child who almost stole your wallet to finish your grocery shopping?” asked Lou, clarifying the story.

Debbie pulled her gaze from the bathroom and back to her partner before looking her dead in the eye. “Yes.”

Lou eyed Debbie carefully, sensing more to the story. “How much did you pay her?”

Debbie’s cheeks flushed again but she mumbled out a number so softly that Lou was sure even Debbie herself didn’t hear it.

“What was that love?” baited Lou.

Debbie grimaced but shot Lou a look. “I paid her a thousand dollars.”

Lou choked on the air between them, and let out an incredulous cough. “You gave a child a thousand dollars to do your grocery shopping?”

“It was money well spent,” defended Debbie, throwing her partner a frustrated look. “Plus, it was money anyone else would have lost anyways since the kid almost stole it to begin with. And seriously Lou, you’re handwriting is horrible. I almost quit three times at the farmers market because I literally couldn’t read the list. She did us both a favor.”

Lou's eyes narrowed at the insult. “My penmanship isn’t that bad.”

“It is,” said Debbie said simply, with finality to her voice. Debbie looked to the bathroom and sighed.

“She needed a bath,” continued Debbie before casting a side glance at Lou, knowing the next words were not going to sit well with the blonde. “Apparently, her foster family doesn’t let her use the shower.”

Like a bolt of electricity shot up her spine, Lou’s body went rigid at Debbie’s words.

Lou knew far too well the horrors of the US’s shitty foster system. Being an abused child from a first generation immigrant, Lou never stood a chance at being adopted. So starting at 8 years old so she was shipped from foster home to foster home until finally she aged out, and met Debbie in a dive-bar that they were both ways too young to be in. The rest is history from there.

Debbie ran her hands up Lou’s back, trying to soothe away the tension she felt beneath her fingertips. This always happened whenever Lou’s childhood was brought up. Debbie only knew bits and pieces, and the small pieces she knew were bad enough to bring tears to her eyes—and even then, she had a feeling that Lou still protected her from the worst parts.

“Maybe that’s why she is here,” mumbled Debbie, bringing Lou’s haunted gaze back to her. “She reminded me so much of you, that I swear she had to be your blood. I knew she wasn’t, but her story, the one she didn’t even have to tell because I could see it in her eyes—those eyes were just yours when you wake up from a nightmare. She’s hungry. She’s dirty. She is probably being abused. She’s running the streets. And she is just a child. Just like you were—all those years ago.”

Debbie reached up and pushed the platinum blonde hair from her lovers face, before resting her hand against her cheek. “Maybe that is why I couldn’t leave her at the market. Maybe that’s why I brought her here for a bath and dinner. Maybe that’s why I feel a need to protect her. When I see her—I see you.”

Lou let out a startled breath at the intensity of love shining in Debbie’s eyes, a look that she had only seen a handful of times and almost always in the bedroom. Lou leaned into her lover's touch, before turning and placing a few kisses to the palm of her hand, before having to step back. Debbie wasn’t the only one who needed space when experiencing an emotional overload. But thankfully the two knew each other like the back of their hands and knew when to give space when needed. So when Lou stepped away, understand and acceptance was the only thing now shining in Debbie’s eyes.

Turning from her partner, Lou headed towards the direction of the linen closet to find Caroline’s clothes that were left here. Grabbing the necessities, she came back out into the hallway to see Debbie uncomfortably standing outside the bathroom door.

Stepping forward, she handed the clothes off to the woman. Now they both were standing outside the door, uncertain how to proceed.

Sighing, Debbie stepped forward and knocked on the door.

“Kid,” she hollered before cracking the door, knowing the shower was at the back of the bathroom and not even within line of sight of the door.

“Ya?” yelled back the kid, barely heard under the sound of the shower.

“Your clothes are next to the door,” called out Debbie, moving to shut the door but pausing, casting a look back at Lou she moved forward again and hollered back through the door.

“Kid?”

“Ya?” yelled back the kid, annoyance now in her voice.

“What's your name?”

The silence that greeted the question went on for a while, so much that the mirror outside the bathroom door was starting to fog as the heat slipped outside the door. Debbie looked back at Lou and shrugged, and moved to shut the door but just before it was closed, both Debbie and Lou heard to soft voice mumble out.

“Its Stella. My name is Stella.”


	2. Stella

_Stella_ —the random girl from the farmers market, officially had a name. 

Debbie closed the door and turned to Lou with a raised brow, “Stella.  Really?” she whispered to her partner. 

Lou smirked at her, “what’s wrong with Stella?”

Debbie shrugged her shoulders walking past her and back into the kitchen.  “I just wasn’t expecting something so—” Debbie paused to lean against the kitchen countertop, to stare out the window to look at the backyard that was full of flowers and a small garden that Lou surprisingly put in about 2 months after they moved in. 

Debbie frequently perched herself in this very spot and affectionally watch her partner in the backyard on her hands and knees tending to the plants.  Dirty jeans, gardening gloves, and a ridiculous straw hat that Debbie was going to burn if she ever found where Lou hid it—the scene always managed to bring a smile to her face and a flutter in her heart. 

That same flutter comes back full force as Debbie feels Lou move behind her, strong and confident hands coming around her to pull their bodies together.  Debbie sighed as she leaned back into the embrace.  Lou’s presence, even before they were together always had a way of settling her.  Debbie felt the light kiss to the side of her neck, and she reached back to tangle her hand in the messy platinum blonde hair and hold the woman there for a second.

“Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours, Debbie Ocean?” mumbled Lou into her partner's neck, placing a couple more kisses between the words. 

Debbie let out a sigh and leaned even heavier into Lou’s embrace.  She felt Lou’s arms tighten around her and knew that if Lou let go right now, she would collapse to the ground, but she knew she wouldn’t—Lou never let her go. 

Even after Debbie went off the radar on Lou for 2 years in their mid-20’s.

Even when Lou’s drug problem spiraled out of hand and  Debbie gave her an ultimatum, the drugs/or her.

Even after Claude Becker.

Even after prison.

Lou never let her go.  

Feeling those never-failing arms around her, Debbie let out another long sigh before turning her head and leaning it against Lou’s shoulder.

“She has a name,” is all Debbie was able to say.  

Lou tightened her arms and placed a kiss to Debbie’s temple.

“Everyone has a name, love,” said Lou affectionately. 

Debbie let out a huff and gave Lou a look that clearly read,  _thanks for that smartass_  before looking back out the window.  “I don’t know why I am feeling like this Lou,” whispered Debbie, frowning at the way her heart literally ached in her chest at the thought of Stella in her bathroom.  “It was easier when she was just— _kid_ , you know? Now it feels too real—there is a child—a real child in our home.”

“You can’t separate yourself from her anymore,” whispered Lou softly.  “A name is personal.  I know you Debbie Ocean, you always put walls between yourself and everyone, and you do it in a very particular way—you refuse to remember names or call someone by their given name.  At least not until you fully—and I mean fully, trust them. You called me Stick for like the first three years of our friendship, and you still do when you are mad at me.  It’s always been your way of separating and protecting yourself.”

Debbie remembered calling Lou that, because honestly, Lou in her late teens and early 20’s there was no other fitting name for the woman.  The woman was literally a bean pole.  Debbie never knew this about herself but thinking back now—she does give everyone nicknames or “forgets” their names on a regular basis. 

“Wait, I don’t call you Stick anymore,” defended Debbie.

“You literally called me Stick two months ago when you saw that woman at the club touch my arm,” said Lou smirking, remembering the jealously that flooded Debbie’s eyes at the sight of someone touching Lou.   

“I did not,” said Debbie in disbelief, trying desperately to recall that night. 

“Yes, you did,” corrected Lou gently but Debbie could hear the underlying hurt in her tone.  “You came up to me, and said,  _“What are you drinking there, Stick_?” –and then you gave a death glare so hard at that woman touching me, that you nearly melted her with your eyes.”

Debbie’s eyes shot wide, remembering it clearly now.  Turning in her arms and placing her hand on Lou’s cheek.  “I did that,” she admitted to her partner.  “I did that.  I remember now.  I’m sorry—I didn’t even realize I did this.”

Lou smiled sadly but nodded before reaching up and grabbing Debbie’s hand and then holding it her own.  “It’s who you are, a small piece of who you are—but that doesn’t make me love you any less.  When I fell in love with you all those years ago, I fell in love with the good, bad and the ugly—Debbie Ocean.”

“The ugly?” teased Debbie, putting on a fake affronted face.  “Baby, there is nothing ugly about me.”

Lou raised a brow at that, before leaning into kiss Debbie but stopping only centimeters from her lips. “Your singing is atrocious.”

Debbie laughed out loud at that, because it was true.  Leaning forward, she kissed Lou long and slow, hoping to convey as much love as possible into the kiss.  Like usual, they lost their selves in the kiss, until suddenly…

“Gross,” gagged a small voice, immediately forcing Debbie to jump back from Lou and look to where the voice came from.

There stood Stella, freshly washed and in clothes that didn’t necessarily fit her but still looked better on her then her old ones.   The girl’s hair was even lighter then Debbie thought, as the dirt and grime was now gone. 

“You said something about dinner?” said Stella, looking between the two women nervously but still exuding a sense of confidence, which was still impressive in Debbie’s book. 

Debbie smirked, side glancing to Lou who was already moving towards the fridge to get out the produce, before looking back.  “I did promise you, dinner.  It won’t be ready for a while, so feel free to make yourself comfortable in the living room.  I think Lou has some sort of gaming system on the TV.”

“Xbox,” replied Lou, coming to the island with a handful of fresh vegetable and setting them down.  “The controllers are in the drawer on the right in the entertainment center,” finished Lou. 

Stella’s eyes shot wide, excitement glowing in them at the prospect of playing a game—before quickly steeling her mask back into a look of nonchalance.  “Yah—whatever,” she shrugged before turning in the direction of the living room, but both Debbie and Lou recognized that her walk to the tv was faster paced then normal. 

“Need any help?” asked Debbie, smiling at the way Lou froze at her words. 

“Honey,” said Lou gently while giving her a pointed look.  “I love you but no.  I actually want to eat dinner tonight.”

Debbie chuckled at that but didn’t let her partner fully get away with the insult as she playfully smacked Lou in the stomach.  “Fine,” pouted Debbie before side glancing to the living room.  “I’m guess I’m going out there then and make sure that sticky-fingers out there keeps her tiny little hands off my stuff.”  Debbie didn’t have to look back at Lou to know the woman was directing a knowing smirk at her back. 

Entering the living room, Debbie noted that Stella had already perched herself on the couch, cross-legged with an Xbox controller in hand.  It was a position that she was so used to seeing Lou in, that it almost caused her to trip over her feet.  Another pang echoed through her heart, as she seriously wondered if Lou had a child 10 years ago and just neglected to tell her. 

Stella ignored her as she entered the room, but Debbie could see the rigidness in her shoulders as she moved across the room to her favorite chair in the corner.  Sitting down in the chair, giving her the perfect vantage point of the room, Debbie picked up the newest murder mystery book she was reading and opened it up. 

She made it a couple pages in when the sound of gunshots echoed from the screen, and Debbie looked up to see Stella playing a first-person shooter game—Call of Duty, if she remembered the game correctly from nights she would watch Lou curse at people through her microphone to other online players.  

“Is that appropriate for a 10-year-old to play?” asked Debbie, grimacing as she watched Stella sneak up on another character and sliced its throat.

Stella snorted, her eyes never leaving the screen.  “Says the woman who literally lectured me to steal wallets from men because they are easier marks.”

It took everything within Debbie not to smile at Stella’s comment.  “Touché, kid,” said Debbie, before looking back down at her book. 

And that is where Lou found them an hour later.  Stella making her decent progress in the campaign of Call of Duty and Debbie putting a notable dent in the novel she started last week.   Both were completely oblivious to her presence, so she leaned against the entry way wall to smile at the scene. 

“Dinner is done, ladies,” said Lou a couple minutes later, after fully cataloging this memory into her mind.   

The reaction from Stella was immediate, as the girl paused her game and leapt from the couch to run to the dining room.   Lou watched her go with a smile, before turning to her partner who was watching the whole erratic scene with something akin to happiness in her eyes.  Debbie noticing Lou’s gaze, gave her a playful glare but got up from the chair and set back book back down. 

“Stop giving me that look?” grumbled out Debbie as she walked by her.

“What look?” asked Lou, smirking as she followed Debbie to the dining room.

“You know what I am talking about,” called back Debbie, not giving Lou the benefit of her turning around. 

Lou chuckled behind her, but kept her mouth shut. 

They reached the dining room together, and Stella was already halfway through her Thai food.  Debbie’s nose was crinkled in disgust, as she watched the Stella devour her food with little to no table manners.  She was pretty sure the kid was seconds away from dropping her utensils and using her hands.  Debbie opened her mouth, ready to say something but a hand on her arm quickly silenced her. 

Lou was giving her a look and shaking her head subtly before leaning in and whispering softly in her ear.  “She’s so skinny for a reason.  Let her be.”

Debbie mouth immediately shut at that, as she looked over at Lou, watching as the tall blonde stared at Stella with something akin to understanding shining in her eyes. 

Lou was the first to move forward, taking a seat next to Stella.  The kid barely stopped eating at Lou’s presence but both adults noticed the subtle pause before continuing. 

Lou looked up, noticing Debbie hadn’t moved and she subtly dragged her eyes to Debbie’s plate. Debbie thankfully understood and moved towards her seat and sat down. 

“Good food?” asked Debbie, eyeing Stella’s nearly empty plate.

Stella bobbed her head up and down, still digging into the Thai.  “The best,” she mumbled out with a mouthful of food. 

Debbie scrunched her nose in disgust at the kid’s manners, and Lou let a low chuckle. 

Lou watched as Stella nearly finished with her plate, before looking down at her own untouched plate. Reaching forward, she grabbed her plate and pushed it towards Stella.  Lou was looking forward to this dinner, but clearly—the kid needed it more.

Stella looked up at the sound of plate dragging across the table and watched as another plate of food was pushed in front of her.  

“Eat up,” nodded Lou, before leaning back in her chair.  “I had a big lunch today.  I’m not hungry.”

Stella and Debbie’s eyes narrowed at the same time and Lou soon found herself at the end of two very penetrating gazes.  Smirking at both and trying to not let them see how uncomfortable they could make her as a team, Lou leaned back in her chair and sat with an air of nonchalance and a blank stare.

“Very convincing, darling,” drawled Debbie, a sticking her fork into her food and taking a bite before raising a brow at her partner and then turning to Stella.  “Did you see her  _tell_?”

Lou’s eyes narrowed immediately at that.  “I don’t have a tell.”

“Everyone does,” sang out Debbie mockingly before leaning back in her chair and smirking.  Turning to Stella she spoke.  “Remember that.  Everyone and I mean _everyone_ has a tell.  Even Lou here,” Debbie paused to gesture to her still glaring partner. “She is one of the best—yet, if you look closely enough, she always does one little thing when she is lying.”

Stella looked at Lou intrigued, before turning to Debbie in confusion. 

“She clenches her jaw when she is lying,” said Debbie, smirking in Lou’s direction.  “She has a solid poker face and it takes a lot of training and practice. Lou here—she has complete control over her face—better than anyone I’ve ever met, but she has to clench her jaw to control her facial features.  Ergo—her tell.” 

Lou huffed out a breath of air.  “I don’t have a tell.”

“Sure, you don’t, honey,” replied Debbie smiling before forking another fork full of Thai food into her mouth.

“If everyone has a tell,” said Stella, eyeing Debbie suspiciously across the table.  “Then what is yours?”

Debbie set fork down and eyed the little girl across the table.  Sharing a side-glance with Lou, knowing that Lou was the only person in the world, besides Danny, that knew—before looking back forward. 

“I tell you what,” nodded Debbie.  “You figure out my tell—and I will give you $500 bucks.”

Lou groaned out loud at that.  “Stop giving away all of our money, Debbie.”

Debbie smiled at that. “I’m pretty sure we are safe with this one, love.”   Debbie paused smirking at Stella across the table.  “She won’t figure it out.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed at that, before reaching forward and grabbing the second plate of food and digging into it.  “I will figure it out,” mumbled out the girl.

“Sure you will,” teased Debbie, going back to eating her Thai.

Leaving Lou in the middle of both of them, wondering if this was by far the weirdest day she had ever had with Debbie Ocean—and that was saying something. 


End file.
